


A Typical Day

by LightBlueFlower



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FACE Family, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Meddling Kids, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightBlueFlower/pseuds/LightBlueFlower
Summary: Christmas Calender 2018 // Day 16 : SnowmanThe pitter-patter of tiny feet running across the wooden floor and little giggles outside of their room woke up Arthur suddenly. He drew his eyebrows in, inhaling sharply as he blinked his eyes a few time, the rest of his body catching up with his brain, and his arms escaped the duvet on top of him, the cold air sending goosebumps along his skin. The giggling continued, along with the slight noises of glee, and Arthur cleared his dry throat, trying to adjust his tense body comfortably into the mattress. He glanced over at the alarm clock, a brand new digital clock that he managed to convince his husband to buy, sitting on top of the drawer right beside his bed, the blue numbers staring back at him. 08: 00.This was a just a typical day at the Kirkland-Bonnefoy residence.---It's a typical Saturday at the Kirkland-Bonnefoy's household. Amelia and Madeline had woken everyone up early so they could go play outside in the snow, and Francis manages to annoy Arthur to the point where they compete to make the best snowman.Yep, just a typical day filled with family dynamics and shenaningans.





	A Typical Day

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH IM SO LATE BUT HERE IT IS!!! THIS IS FOR @aph-fanficchallenges CHRISTMAS CALENDER ON TUMBLR!!
> 
> I signed up for Day 16- Snowman for FrUk (but like, I forgot I got exams that week so like, here it is). Plus, this turned out to be longer than I expected, as well as becoming a FACE family story and FrUk so...yeah it's just a lot of domestic family au shenaningans! And I still meed to edit this, but here it is!
> 
> Anyways, thank you people at aph-fanficchallenges for letting me participate in this event and I hope you all enjoy this piece!

The pitter-patter of tiny feet running across the wooden floor and little giggles outside of their room woke up Arthur suddenly. He drew his eyebrows in, inhaling sharply as he blinked his eyes a few time, the rest of his body catching up with his brain, and his arms escaped the duvet on top of him, the cold air sending goosebumps along his skin. The giggling continued, along with the slight noises of glee, and Arthur cleared his dry throat, trying to adjust his tense body comfortably into the mattress. He glanced over at the alarm clock, a brand new digital clock that he managed to convince his husband to buy, sitting on top of the drawer right beside his bed, the blue numbers staring back at him. 08: 00. 

This was a just a typical day at the Kirkland-Bonnefoy residence.

Even though it was a Saturday, the twins, 5 year old Amelia and Madeline, always manages to wake up at the exact same time every morning, regardless of the day or season - 8 o’clock, on the dot. It was normal for them, with the duo waking up for school at that time usually, although Arthur sometimes wished they would just sleep in for once without having to worry about the sort of trouble they would get themselves in if they weren’t being watched.

Arthur felt the body beside him shift slightly, and an arm wrapped around his waist as a face buried into his back, making him relax and fall back into the hug. How he wanted to stay underneath the thick duvet and fall back asleep in his husband’s arms- alas, now that their daughters were awake, they would eventually roam back upstairs to wake both of them up for breakfast.

“Francis, they’re up,” Arthur mumbled, his voice still hoarse from sleeping, an arm over Francis’, the warmth of his body helping combat the cold air.

“Hm.” Francis made a sound through his throat, and his eyes were still closed when Arthur glanced sideways over to him.

“They need breakfast. Get up,” Arthur said, shaking Francis’ arm slightly, but instead, Francis held onto him tighter. After a few seconds of silence, Francis opened his eyes slightly, blue eyes fleeting up to look at Arthur, and finally croaked,

“They’re going to brush their teeth- we have time.”

As if on cue, Arthur heard Amelia laugh loudly as Madeline frantically asked her to stop squeezing out too much toothpaste.

“Time to do what?” Arthur asked absentmindedly, twirling a strand of Francis’ long blond hair, knowing that if he didn’t keep the conversation going, Francis would fall back asleep, leaving him to be the only one awake.

“Mhm,” Francis mumbled, again closing his eyes, soft lips against Arthur’s shoulder. Usually, Arthur would enjoy this sort of affection - and he actually did like it at the moment - but he knew Francis was trying to get his way to stay in bed.

“Francis, don’t fall asleep,” Arthur said in a clearer voice, shaking Francis’ arm.

“I’m not,” Francis said with an annoyed ‘tut’, eyebrows pulled in.

“Your eyes are closed.”

“They aren't...” Francis grumbled, opening his eyes again, a frown now appearing on his face. He lifted the arm he had around Arthur’s waist, and placed an index finger over his lips. “You talk too much in the morning.”

“You’re the one who always sleeps in,” Arthur replied, sitting up slightly, extending his arms upwards to stretch, his back making a very satisfying cracking sound. Ah, what comes with age. The blanket slid off his body, exposing him to the cold air, and immediately making him regret his decision, but he stayed put.

Luckily he had decided to wear a shirt that night. Francis, on the other hand, had nothing except his pants on, and hissed slightly at the cold hitting his shoulders and chest, and pulled the blanket over him once again as he twisted away from Arthur. The house was insulating, as it should be considering the winters where they lived, yet the winter air always permeates through the window. 

I have to change the curtains, Arthur mentally noted, avoiding changing the sheer curtains of summer to the thicker, darker winter curtain. He couldn’t trust Francis to actually do these sorts of things - Francis was more of the designer and deciding the aesthetics of the room, while Arthur actually had to execute them.

“If you don’t wake up, I’ll make breakfast,” Arthur hummed, hoping it would coax Francis to watch the twins, but he remained still.

There was a small knock on the door, before the handle twisted, the hinges creaking slowly as the door opened.

“Papa? Dad? Are y’all awake?” a young girl's voice aggressively whispered, and a pair of curly dark hair, one more short and tufted and the other long that was up in a ponytail, bounced around as the floorboard creaked lightly under the weight of feet on their toes. Cheeky smiles appeared on both their faces when they saw Arthur sitting up on bed, and the one with the shorter hair immediately bounded to jump on to the bed, ending up laying stomach first over his legs.

“Good morning!” She exclaimed in a much louder voice, her eyes twinkling in excitement,and Arthur had to switch on his ‘parental’ mode right away.

“Good morning,” Arthur said in a softer voice, a voice he would reserve for kids, and glanced over to the other young girl, Madeline, as she walked up to his side, no other place for her to go and he could hear the quietest of ‘good morning’ from her. He picked her up, her body being very light for her age, and placed her in the gap between him and Francis. He glanced at her hair, neatly placed evenly, noticing the star hair tie holding up her ponytail. 

“Madeline, did you do this yourself,” he asked her. “It’s really nice.” She nodded her head, a small smile on her face. 

“Yep,” Madeline responded, a usual one worded response you would expect from her, thought she looked proud of herself. Francis had been encouraging them to try and dress themselves up, telling Arthur it would be good for their self esteem - and it has been working nicely for Madeline.

“Dad! Dad!” Amelia exclaimed, rolling closer to Arthur along his leg so her face to look up to the ceiling. “Can we go outside?!”

“This early in the morning?” Arthur asked, keeping his body still so Amelia wasn't accidentally kicked off. “You have to eat breakfast first.”

“But Daaaaaad,” Amelia whined, exasperated, now rolling off of Arthur's legs and onto the bed. “There's snow outside!”

Shit, it snowed last night? Arthur thought, trying not to groan out loud as Amelia listed all the things she wanted to do in the snow, including snowman building and snowball making and tobogganing and did she mention snowman building? I hope it's not too much that I have to shovel the driveway...

“That's fine, but you have to eat breakfast first,” Arthur repeated. He glanced over to the lump of blanket that was Francis’ body, and a cheeky smile played on his lips. “How about you two try to wake Papa up? Dad still needs to brush his teeth.”

“Okay!” Amelia sat up immediately, a newfound mission exciting her greatly, and she immediately shuffled over to Francis’ side of the bed, patting the duvet on top of their Papa.

Arthur got out of the bed, glad that he didn't have to deal with waking up Francis, and walked up to the window on the side of room. He pulled back the curtains, his eyes widening, both bewildered and annoyed. A thick, white blanket of snow covered the entire cul-de-loop, with the streets being lined with brown tire tracks through the snow, most of the driveways being left relatively untouched. The clouds have cleared most of the sky, and the sun has yet to rise fully, but the orange tone of the sky reflected the snow nicely, glimmering in the stillness of the neighbourhood.

At least I don’t have work until Monday, he thought as he walked out of the room, smiling slightly as he heard Amelia say as he left the room, “Papa! Papa! Wake up! There's snow outside! Me and Maddy wanna play outside!”

He knew Francis was much more attentive to them and he wouldn't shrug them off- especially if Amelia starts to lay across his body or the two would start jumping up and down on the bed.

After a few minutes, Arthur washed his hands at the basin and started to brush his teeth, when he heard the bathroom door slowly open. In emerged Francis, his back slouching slightly and rubbing an eye, Amelia's and Madeline's voices ringing in the background from across the hall.

“T'es vraiment ennuyant,” Francis mumbled, his voice much lighter as he would usually sound, towards the toilet on the other side of the wall, trying to keep himself from falling over.

“And you like it,” Arthur said through the frothy paste, continuing to brush. He avoided looking at Francis’ back through the mirror, allowing to have some sort of decency. “The roads are shit. Do you have shift tonight?”

“Yeah, how bad is it?” Francis groaned, craning his neck backwards. 

“They said it would be about 20 centimetres. Looks about it too,” Arthur replied, a crooked grin on his face. “There’s going to be a lot of accidents on the road. Are you working in the ER?”

“Yeah,” Francis said, his voice cracking slightly. “Why did I decide to work in that department?”

“Because you got to see me a lot,” Arthur rolled his eyes, repeating what Francis would often say, and he could hear his lover chuckle slightly. Arthur quickly rinsed his mouth, washing his face, before saying, “At least, that’s what you said.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Francis replied, and Arthur could hear the toilet flush, Francis shifting over to walk to the sink. Arthur quickly finished up, and shifted away, grabbing his towel that hung over the bathtub rung, facing Francis slightly. Francis continued, washing his hands and face, as he glanced at the mirror, making eye contact through there, “We don’t have the same shifts anymore.”

“I think what we have now was better than before,” Arthur sighed, as he patted his face gently. “You can’t tell me what to do everytime I bring someone in.”

“It’s not my fault that you guys are aggressive,” Francis huffed, leaning over to lightly pinch his cheek, a playful gesture he did. “Especially when carrying the patient.”

Which, granted, maybe when he first started off as a paramedic at their local hospital, he was a bit more intense. They had known each other from long before, parting ways during college when they ended up in different towns for different programs, vaguely keeping in touch through social media and when Arthur was in town - Francis continued on to be an nurse, and was working as a nurse for a few years before Arthur applied to the hospital he worked in. He didn’t expect Francis to be in ER of all places - the emergency section of any hospital was always busy and overwhelming to be in, with the amount of patients coming in and out being exhausting, that Arthur didn’t know Francis of all people could have handled it. He had expected him to be in Labour and Delivery, because he handled babies very well, but apparently he switched from that unit to try his hand at something new. 

That’s really how they reconnected though- Arthur worked on the ambulance and brought the patient in, while Francis would do what he had to do. Albeit, Francis was a bit rough on Arthur right away, knowing he was new to plenty of things, and would often tell him to be a bit more gentle after their shift, if it coincided. Who would’ve thought that they would have made a full circle and end up getting married with kids.

Definitely not Arthur a good decade back. 

“We have to be strong,” Arthur swatted his arm away, coming closer to Francis. “How else are we supposed to lift a body?”

“You can be strong and not aggressive,” Francis hummed, leaning closer to plant a quick kiss on Arthur’s lips, running his hand lightly along his arm. Arthur went along with it, and quirked his head away as Francis continued, now on his cheeks, slowly kissing along dow to his neck. 

“You need to shave,” Arthur jerked slightly away when he felt a prickling sensation from Francis’ beard along his neck. “It feel weird when you kiss me”

“I’m so tired,” he heard Francis groan as he pulled away, feeling his face with his hand. 

“The kids want to play outside,” Arthur said, standing near the door, ready to leave Francis to do his business. “Their snow pants are in the closet, right?”

“Mhm,” Francis hummed in agreement, pulling open a drawer underneath the sink. “Are you going to make breakfast?”

“If you don’t come downstairs quick enough, I might,” Arthur teased, knowing it would make Francis get out of pampering himself for too long, and left before Francis could say anything else.

The twins had made their way down the stairs, and their laughter could be heard between their hushed voices. They were up to something, Arthur knew his daughters well enough to figure that they might be trying to snag a sweet from the cupboards, and he silently made his way down the stairs, following the whispers into the kitchen. 

There the two were, having pulled a chair from the dining table and dragging it across the floor to the corner of the kitchen, in front of the cupboard where Arthur kept their cereals and pancake mix and, more importantly, the cookie jar. Madeline was the one on the chair, reaching forward to the cupboard, Amelia holding down the chair so that she wouldn’t fall.

“Hurry up!” Amelia whispered, while Madeline, opened the cupboard.

“I am!” Madeline said, her voice being naturally soft and quiet, and she reached into the cupboard.

Arthur had seen them do this so many times - part of him was worried that they may fall, but another part of him found this mischief to be quite adorable and enduring. Francis, a sentimentalist who loved nostalgia, would usually take a video of them when they were up to trouble without them knowing, a sort of way to keep their younger selves in memory for years later. Today, he’d probably me adamant of videotaping them playing outside, while they play in the snow. It would be their third winter as a family, and neither of them really wanted to miss much of anything.

Still, Arthur knew he had to stop them right away and talk to them about this - it was still a dangerous thing for them to do, being so small, and he has to tell them as their parent so they would stop doing it.

Arthur cleared his throat, as he leaned against the open doorway, and he could see Madeline freeze on spot, Amelia nearly jumping in surprised. 

“What are you two up to?” Arthur asked, walking up to Madeline, more concerned about whether she would fall or not, while Amelia immediately jumped in front of him, ready with her excuse.

“Nothing!” Amelia said, as Madeline quickly scrambled off the chair, sitting on the chair before getting off gently. “We were just playing a game!”

“A game?” Arthur repeated, a hand on his hip, raising an eyebrow, trying not to smile. “What sort of game?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Amelia started to swing her arms around, a thing she does when she’s coming up with a fib, while Madeline started fidgeting with her fingers, a nervous smile on her face. “Just a game!”

“Were you trying to get a cookie?” Arthur asked, and Amelia immediately looked down, still swinging her arms around. 

“Noooo,” she sung, big eyes glancing up to Arthur here and there. “I didn’t…”

“Did you tell Madeline to get the cookie jar for you, Amelia?” Arthur asked, knowing that she was the one with the heist plans.

“Nooo,” she repeated again, a bit higher this time. Arthur held his stare, and after a second, she then sung, “Maybeeeee.”

“You two know the rules- no cookies until dinner,” Arthur said, squatting down to their level to make eye contact with them. Amelia was still avoiding eye contact, and Madeline was still fidgeting, but looking up to meet his level. “And I told you, it’s dangerous to stand on chairs like that. Madeline, you could have fallen over and gotten hurt.”

“Sorry,” Madeline managed to mumble out.

“It’s okay,” Arthur sighed, trying to keep his voice light and soft. “But you can’t do this again. Especially you, Amelia. You can’t make your sister do dangerous things like this.”

“But Daaad, I would have caught her if she fell,” Amelia said, finally looking at Arthur. She had started a knack of talking back recently, and Arthur knew it was usual for someone her age to start it- he had prepared for this situation ever since the two started started to say ‘No!’ in a definite way.

“But what if you didn’t catch her?” Arthur asked her calmly. “What if she fell and hurt her head, and me or Papa weren’t around?”

“I…” Amelia tapered off, her mind thinking a bit on what he asked, and she shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“If you want a cookie, just ask me or Papa,” Arthur replied in place of her pondering. “If you two do this again, you know I’d have to give you both a timeout.”

That must have made it much clearer to both Amelia and Madeline, who immediately straightened up a bit, a small gasp escaping her mouth - it was the worst thing you could do to a toddler. And especially to Amelia, who couldn’t bear to sit still for more than a few seconds. 

“Do you understand?” Arthur asked, and Madeline nodded, while Amelia aggressively nodded while saying ‘yep, yep’.

“Good. Thank you for understanding,” Arthur replied, and he stood up, letting out a slight huff. Well, he diverted from having to go through a back talking session and a tantrum, so in his mind, the conversation went very well. He glanced over to the cupboard, still open and exposing it’s contents, and he noted the pancake mix sitting there. There should be enough for breakfast for all of them. It might preoccupy them before they can ask to watch TV.

“Do you two want to help me make pancakes?” Arthur asked, and almost immediately, Amelia jumped up, exclaiming while Madeline muttered another ‘yep’. 

Before long, Madeline was sitting on top of the open counter, and Arthur had laid out the egg carton, butter, milk bag, and the mix. Amelia stood on a stool that helped her see over the counter to help out, and held the wisk tightly in her hand, ready to stir when it was her time to shine.

“What are you making?” Francis’ voice, how much clearer and brighter than it was earlier in the morning, came from the doorway, and his footsteps on the marble floor came closer to the trio, with Amelia attempting to steer the whisk in a large circles.

“Pancakes,” Madeline replied in a hushed voice, and Francis walked up to the counter, picking her up in his hands. She happily accepted it, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he balanced her on one side. 

“Check this out Papa!” Amelia exclaimed, as she picked up the pace on stirring the bowl, and the pancake mix started to flow out of the bowl onto the counter. 

“Whoa, slow down!” Arthur held her hand quickly, not wanting anything to go to waste, and continued to use his hand to control how fast Amelia went. 

“It’s looking good, mon doudou,” Francis hummed, patting her head gently, before leaning to Arthur. “Mon amour, please leave it on the side so I can make it.”

“Bug off,” Arthur replied, wanting so badly to say fuck off, but in the presence of his children, he had to keep everything coming out of his mouth G rated.

“Madeline, can you put some of the dishes on the table for me?” Francis asked her gently, and she nodded before being set down on the floor.

Usually, breakfast at the Kirkland-Bonnefoy’s would have been much more hectic and chaotic- if either of them had a shift the night before, then one of them would be likely fast asleep while the other one ran about making food (which has been proven much harder for Arthur who would almost certainly cause a fire in the house). It would be much worse on the weekdays, where the one who was awake having to get the kids ready for school and running about, making sure they have everything packed up and ready to head out.  
These weekdays where there wasn’t much to do were a much more joyful time, and breakfast was more relaxing, with more time being allowed to actually make food and to sit to eat. Arthur preferred it over shovelling a granola bar in his mouth, hoping it would keep him up a bit longer, being stuck in traffic to and from where he dropped them off for school, before being able to go home to sit to have tea.

Francis immediately took over after Amelia finished mixing, Madeline having set their plates and forks on the table across from one another, helping with the plastic cups for the orange juice they would likely eat. The smell of pancakes wafted in the air immediately, a warm, comforting smell, and the light sizzling of the batter on the pan sang in the background.

“Dad, can we play outside after breakfast?” Madeline asked in a soft voice, as she hopped over to the table, immediately sitting on the chair, Amelia doing the same. Madeline took the orange juice mug, a bit shaky with her hand, but she poured it out little by little, first into her cup, before Amelia’s

“Yes, you can,” Arthur replied, watching her from over the counter where he had put water in the electric kettle that was boiling, ready to grab a towel if any spilled on the white table.

“Do we have to wear our snow pants?” Amelia chirped, swinging her legs underneath the table

“Yes, you have to.”

“Why?” She continued to ask, despite knowing why she had to wear it.

“Because it’s cold outside,” Arthur said, patient and calm. Every single parenting book said that he had to ‘cave into their curiosity’ and not shut them down - it was apart of their development, afterall. If only it wasn’t so continuous and annoying at times.

“Why?”

“Because it’s winter.”

“Why?”

“Because of the Earth tilting away from the Sun,” Arthur sighed. “And that makes the atmosphere cold.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Arthur said, his memory of astronomy failing him quickly, having last studied it a decade, as much as he hates to be reminded how old he is. “Because it does.”

“But why?”

“Mon doudou,” Francis interrupted, bringing a plate of perfectly stacked browned pancakes on top of one another, around the counter to place it on the table. Immediately, Amelia and Madeline sat up, eyeing the pancakes with excitement. “Why don’t we go to the library tomorrow and pick up some books on this kind of stuff, hmm?”

“Okay!” Amelia’s interest in knowing more about why the Earth gets as cold as it did that time of year tapering off, replaced with wanting to eat as much pancakes as she could.

“I’ll get the syrup, okay?” Francis replied, and immediately Arthur went over to grab it, sliding it across the counter to Francis, who took it right away, an instinctive habit of being helpful without being asked.

As predicated, they ate the pancakes, mouthful with the sugary sweetness of it all, and Arthur had to caution Amelia few times to slow down. Arthur hung about, eating a pancake on a plate as he waited for the water to boil.

“You want to sit down, mon amour?” Francis asked, gesturing toward the empty seats. “I can make you tea, if you like.”

“You would ruin it,” Arthur replied. Francis rolled his eyes at his comment, leaning in for a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, since you’re so good at it,” Francis said sarcastically. “Can you make me a cup as well, then?”

Sod off, Arthur wanted to say, instead saying, “Sure thing.”

Francis smiled, a knowing smile, reading his mind in an instant, but took advantage of Arthur’s softer words around the children. There was something else about Francis’ smile, the way his eyes fleeted, looking at Arthur’s lips, and Arthur thought he was going to kiss him - but instead, he swerved away and walked to the table, sitting with the girls who were chattering (or, moreso, Amelia was chattering) away.

What a tease, Arthur grumbled to himself, a bit annoyed, but knowing that they would have time for themselves a bit later in the day, he could have his way and tease Francis all he wanted.

“Done!” Amelia brimmed after half an hour, syrup still gracing her mouth and cheeks, jumping up and down slightly in the chair. “Dad, can I go outside now!”

“So soon?” Arthur asked, having still not settled down in the chair yet, nevermind even a quarter through his tea. “You haven’t finished your juice.”

Amelia glanced over to her half filled Power Rangers cup, before immediately grabbing it an chugging it down, Arthur raising an eyebrow. She put the cup down with a satisfying ‘ahh’, before saying, “See, I’m done!”

Kids, I swear, Arthur thought, not wanting to frown, and he could see her on the edge of her seat, ready to run off to the front to grab her jacket and boots.

“Only if Papa says you can,” Arthur sighed, glancing over at Francis, who was reading the newspaper on the side of the table while drinking tea, having recently finding more pleasure in doing quieter things. Whatever happened to the guy who would mock Arthur an old man whenever he read a book or the newspaper to pass the time? The guy who would live it up by going out every night and party every chance he got? Not that Arthur hated how he was then - he just found it amusing that he had started to pick up on the ‘old man’ things he would scoff at now, being more of a homebody than ever.

“Papa!” Amelia shifted her body towards him, grabbing his attention by tapping the edge of the newspaper. 

“Hmm,” Francis hummed, glancing up towards her, having not heard a thing, spacing out and blocking everything around as he read. “Oui, ma cherie?”

“Can I go outside?” Amelia sighed, tired of asking her parents this simple question. Francis glanced over to Arthur, who looked at him, expectantly.

Help her get dressed, was what Arthur was trying to say, wanting badly to sit for a bit longer.

“If your sister is done eating, sure,” Francis replied, completely misreading what Arthur wanted him to do, before, looking back at the paper. “Then Dad can help you two get dressed.”

Bloody hell, Arthur widened his eyes, putting his head in a hand, noticing that Madeline was, indeed, done with her meal, as Amelia immediately got off the chair and dragged Madeline out of hers. 

“C’mon Maddie, let’s go!” Amelia said, as Madeline allowed herself to be pulled off, glancing over to her Dad with excitement. “Dad! Hurry up!”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur mumbled, as the twins rushed as fast as their little legs could carry them across the floor out the open door, down the hallway to the closet. He noticed Francis glance up to him, a smirk on his face, and annoyance grew inside of Arthur immediately. That bastard- he knew he wanted Francis to help them with their things, and went ahead and asked Arthur to do it anyway.

“By the way, cher,” Francis said, fluttering his eyes a bit. “Can you shovel the driveway? It would be easier for me to leave for work tonight? Thank you.”

“Ass,” Arthur whispered to him, and Francis hummed in agreement as he continued on his way, already finding Amelia reaching up inside the closet, attempting to pull on her jacket from the hanger, with Madeline trying to pull out a basket containing their socks.

“Wait!” Arthur exclaimed, knowing she would somehow break the hanger with the force she was exerting - god knows how many she has broken so far from sheer force. “I’ll get it for you, Amelia. Put on your socks.”

“Okay, but I can put it on myself,” Amelia proclaimed, grabbing a pair from the basket, as Arthur slid the closet door further, grabbing both their white and blue jackets, along with the snowpants that hung further behind. 

“Dad, can I not wear a scarf?” Amelia asked again as she pulled on her jacket over her arms, waiting as Arthur started to finish wrapping Madeline’s red scarf around her neck, a small, thick woolen one she got as a gift from his mother.

“No, you have to wear one,” Arthur replied, zipping up Madeline’s jacket, tucking her hair that was stuck underneath her hat behind to fit underneath the hood of her jacket.

“Why?”

This is going to take a while, Arthur sighed, as he went on to answer her question once more. He could feel Francis’ smirk of amusement from across the house, enjoying and listening to Arthur trying to keep his temper in tact.

\---

“AHHHH,” Amelia yelled as she ran across the porch after being released through the front door, nearly tumbling down the stairs trying to reach the the front lawn of their house.

“Amelia, careful, there’s ice on the pavement!” Arthur exclaimed, holding Madeline by the hand who was trying to get adjusted to walking with snow pants on, and Amelia completely ignoring her father’s wishes fell backwards into the snow, laughing as she flailed her arms and legs along the snow.

Arthur had gotten his snow equipment on as well. With his thick boots, woolen gloves, and hat covering his ears, he was ready to shovel the driveway. Looking at how deep the snow was made his arms immediately ache, remembering the pain of shoveling snow out for so many years. He would have had Francis to do it, but with him having work that night, it would be unfair for him to do more than he should.  
He glanced over to his left neighbours driveway, seeing the black pavement showing through the thin layer of snow, a sign it had been cleared out to the best of its abilities. A man in a thick, dark coat was at the end of the driveway, shoveling the last bit of snow to the middle segment of land that separated their driveways.

Arthur went towards the garage door, the sound of fresh snow crunching underneath his boots being satisfying for the time being, sliding it open as Madeline waddled towards Amelia, lying down in the snow as she did, proceeding to make snow angels. 

Fortunately, the green shovel sat in the front corner of the space, along with the salt bucket- Arthur didn't need to rummage underneath all the junk that had accumulated over the years. He picked the shovel, grumbling a bit, along with the bucket, lugging it along the floor to the closest snow part of the driveway. The man from down the road walked up the driveway, and Arthur looked at him, a smile on his face.

“We got a bit of snow, eh Arthur?” the man, his neighbour and friend Krishna, said, holding the shovel out, leaning on it for balance. He pulled down his scarf, a thick one that covered half his face, and revealed a flushed colour on his face. “You and Francis are going to be busy this winter.”

“Damn right about that,” Arthur replied, sighing in between words, gesturing to his driveway. “How long did it take you clear this out?”

“‘Bout an hour?” Krishna shrugged his shoulders slightly, rolling it back. “It's wet snow. It’s going to be hell on your back.”

“Fuck me,” Arthur groaned, glancing over to his kids, without a care it the world as they rolled around, throwing snow up and down. He figured as much, with the sun now peeking out in the sky, making the air sort of moist cold that came with wet snow.

“And I almost slipped on ice thrice,” Krishna noted. “We're going to have a frigid winter.”

“Are you planning on making an ice rink in your backyard again?” Arthur asked. Krishna, having a young son himself (who was a few years older than his own children), has usually made a ice rink for the boy to skate on an practice his hand at shooting pucks in a net. He lets Madeline and Amelia use the rink as well- it's where they first learned how to skate. Especially Madeline, who loved to skate around in the space for as long as she could, while being taught a few things by Krishna's son.

“I'll wait until later in the month, when the temperature drops,” he replied. “I don't want to waste time if it's just going to melt away the next day.”

“That would be wise,” Arthur nodded along. He then dropped to a whisper, “By the way, did you hear? About you know who.”

A smirk grew on Krishna's face, as he leaned in slightly, the sound of gossip enticing him. “Katya already told me.”

“Of course she did,” Arthur rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Katya, their front door neighbour, has always been one to know everything about everyone in their little cul-de-loop; being a part time ‘mom’ to her two younger siblings, she especially knew about all the gossip from the mothers, who would often have play dates and whatnot with their kids, all around the same age. Francis has taken the twins to plenty of them, insisting that it would be good for them to not constantly keep to themselves and learn to be social, but Arthur knew it was because he wanted a piece of drama that was going around.

They welcomed Francis with open arms of course- he knew how to speak to them on a level that Arthur has still not figured out. Out of all the neighbours in this part of the road, the only ones he really enjoyed talking to is Krishna and Katya, who would often drink tea while the children entertained each other.

“Uh oh,” Krishna mumbled, looking past Arthur towards his other neighbour’s place. “Here she comes.”

“Arthur, it’s so good to see you out of the house!” a woman's voice said loudly, her voice high and whiny, and Arthur immediately placed a grim smile on his face. He turned around, greeted by pearly white teeth through the woman’s smile, as she walked up along the side of the road to a place where she could stand as close to them as possible. 

“Hi Karen,” Arthur forced out, faking politeness, the woman being the person he was just about to entice Krishna with details of what Katya had told him. “I haven't seen you in quite a bit as well.”

“Yeah, Bill keeps me busy- you know with taking care of the kids and always having hockey nights with the boys,” she replied, laughing as if she said a joke, and Arthur forced a small laugh, knowing there was a bit of malice in the way she spoke of her husband. 

Heterosexual couples- he never understood their dynamic. Or it could be that most of the husbands in the neighbourhood were as useful as a broken doorknob, making the relationships Arthur has witnessed with these women to be less than desirables.

“Well, you know how husbands are, amiright Krishna?” Arthur said, glancing over to his friend, who nodded along.

“Krishna is such a sweet guy,” she laughed. “Lakshmi tells me about all the things you do for her- she’s is so lucky to have you!”

“Well, of course,” Krishna replied playfully, going along with the flow. “If anything, you could say I'm more lucky to have her!”

Sap, Arthur tried with all his might not to roll his eyes as they both laughed.

“Say, Arthur, what happened to Francis?” haven’t seen him in a long while?”

There it is. “Busy with work,” Arthur said with a slight smile, knowing that she saw him as eye candy, as well as being infatuated with Francis. 

Who could blame her, though- Francis had a way with words, unknowingly giving the impression of flirting during times when he wasn’t, and he still looked handsome, regardless of how many grey hair he’s been growing or how tired he looked. How else did you think he made Arthur fall for him the way he did? “You know how it is, he’s been pulling night shift a lot lately.”

“Aw, that must be so tiring,” Karen replied,and he could see her glancing over at the closed front door. It didn’t help her hide her infatuation, not since there’s been word going around that her husband could be cheating on her. Despite how annoying he found her, Arthur felt bad for her, and her demonic kids, having to have such a useless husband and father around. Arthur hoped she would kick him out soon; then he would have to see less of his stupid face. “Being on his feet all the time.”

“Yes, well that’s what we do,” Arthur replied, his patience running thin. He could tell by Krishna’s face that he was trying to hold his laughter in, a wide closed mouth smile on his face, watching with amusement. Arthur continued, “Are you taking your boys to hockey practice.”

A statement, not a question, to remind her that she should probably go. 

“Oh right! We’re running a bit late,” she said with a laugh, a laugh that Arthur found airy and too high pitched to the ears, and she started to walk away towards her car, waving a hand. “See you two later!”

“Bye Karen,” Krishna happily said, smiling and waved a mitt back, and Arthur mumbled a half-hearted farewell.

“You’re so rude to her,” Krishna continued, when she was far away from earshot, continuing along to the side of his stairs where he had a bag of salt ready to be used.

“I was not,” Arthur said, holding his smile as he looked away from her direction, before dropping it. “I think I was very civil.”

“Civil,” Krishna repeated with a chuckle. “Right. I’ll let you get on with shoveling the snow.” 

Krishna continued on to scoop up a cupful of salt, leaving Arthur to start shovelling the snow along the side of the driveway.

Arthur grumbled a string of words, inaudible to anyone around him, and he began, pushing the shovel along the snow, lifting it slightly to push it onto the hill that had formed thanks to Krishna. He kept an ear out for the girls, glancing every few moments back to make sure they stayed off the road, as he gradually cleared the main parts of the driveway for the car they had to be able to exit. Krishna eventually left, extending an invitation for tea that evening, for a gossip session no less, and Arthur told him he’d try to come by.

A few moments have passed when the front door suddenly opened. Arthur glanced back from the bottom of the driveway, moving his nose slightly, knowing that it had turned a pale red from the cold air, a harsh contrast on his white skin. He wasn’t really cold, the jacket and gloves shielding him well, but his shitty boots allow for a bit of snow to penetrate through- he really needs to go out and buy a new pair. 

Out emerged Francis, looking as fresh and warm, cozied into his jacket and scarf, two cups in his hand. He closed the door behind him, but he remained by the doorway, leaning on it to watch as Amelia and Madeline start to pile snow to make a snow hill of sorts. Francis finally looked over to Arthur, who had pushed snow to the edge of the front lawn, ignoring him and his slightly aching arms while shoveling it off to the side. 

“The driveway looks great so far,” Francis said from his spot on the porch, planted there, smiling at Arthur who walked along the driveway to the next spot to shovel aside.

“Yeah? Why don’t you come down here and have a closer look?” Arthur asked, leaning on to the shovel, a slight frown on his face as Francis sipped his tea, amused.

“I enjoy the view from up here,” Francis said with a chuckle, knowing his game, but stepped down the stairs, cautiously. “Did you put salt on the stairs yet?”

“I figured I’d do it later,” Arthur replied, watching him as he cautiously walked close. Francis held out the cup he had in his hand.

“I thought I’d make you something warm,” Francis sighed. “Since I felt bad for my poor husband having to shovel the snow in the cold.”

“As if,” Arthur replied, taking off his glove quickly to grasp the cup, a quick sip of the contents, slight relief coming through from the familiar taste of caffeine and warmth. 

“You don’t need to finish the top half,” Francis said, nodding along as he looked along the driveway. “At least I pull out the car now. Do I need to buy groceries?”

“No, we have enough until next week,” Arthur said between sips, and started to trudge the shovel up the driveway along with himself, Francis following along. The only time he’d listen to Francis was if he didn’t need to do more than he’d need to. When he was younger, it was much easier to shovel the entire driveway- now it was whatever that won’t get in the way of leaving.

“Tired already?” Francis said with a mocking tone as Arthur quickly pushed the snow away from the stairs, sitting on the top step. 

“Yes. And if you’re just going to stand there, then you can salt the stairs and stuff,” Arthur grumbled, gesturing Francis to leave him be. Francis was not expecting him to say that, but obliged, leaving his cup with Arthur, who continued to drink as he watched Madeline and Amelia, now rolling a snowball across the lawn. It had began to grow quite big, and they reached a point they couldn’t budge it over. The two of trying to push it away with their entire body, but to no avail. The snowball sat still, refusing to roll.

“Dad!” Amelia exclaimed as she fell on her behind, Madeline leaning her body across the giant snowball, feet off the ground. “Can you help us!”

“What are you two up to?” Arthur asked, frowning slightly for having to put his mug of tea down,but he stood up, reaching for his gloves in his jacket pocket. 

“We want to make snowman,” Amelia said with a pout, unnecessary baby talk from her end to make Arthur help, as Madeline rolled off the snowball, lightly landing on the ground face up.

“It won’t move,” Madeline huffed, sitting up as Arthur approached.

“You want to make this snowball bigger?” Arthur asked, glancing at the snowball. It was nearly their height- much bigger than they really need it to be for the bottom.

“Yes!” Amelia said, standing up, pushing against the snowball.

“But I think it’s already big enough,” Arthur replied. “Why don’t you start to make the second snowball?”

“Yeah Amelia,” Madeline said, starting to get her snow in her hand. “This is enough.”

“But I want it to be big!” Amelia said, raising her arms up. 

“Are you making one snowman?” Arthur asked, looking at Madeline, who looked like she wanted to say something, but kept her glance down.

“Yes, one snowman.”

Arthur then felt Madeline tugging on his pants, still looking towards the ground. He went down to her level, leaning closer as she lifted a mitten to cover the side of her mouth.

“I want to make a snowman, too,” she said, her tone a whisper. “B-but ‘Melia said we can only make one.”

“Amelia,” Arthur sighed, knowing the antics she would pull. “Madeline also wants to make a snowman too. Why don’t we leave it this size so your sister could make one too.”

“But how am I supposed to make a big snow man?” She asked, both hands on her hips. 

“Your snowman doesn’t have to be big,” Arthur replied. 

“But there’s only supposed to be one snowman.”

“It doesn’t have to be just one,” Arthur reasoned, as she crossed her arms, a pout on his face. “We can have two snowmans in the yard.”

“But she’s not going to make it look good,” Amelia said, intent in her words, taking Arthur back a bit at her bluntness. “It’s going to look bad.” 

He could see Madeline shuffle slightly closer to him, a slight sniffle could be heard. This is exactly what he didn’t want- Madeline tearing up and Amelia being inconsiderate. Something Arthur had spoken to her about many times. 

“Amelia!” Arthur said, his soft tone replaced with his serious one, and he could see her eyes stared up, glancing down here in there. “That’s incredibly rude of you to say.”

“...”

“Apologize to your sister right now.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Arthur sputtered in disbelief, now a tad bit annoyed. “Because what you said is incredibly rude to your sister!”

As if to make matters worse, Francis approached them, having finished Arthur asked him to do, and asked in a chipper voice, “What’s going on here?”

Immediately, Amelia waddled over to Francis before Arthur could hold her to stand in one place, hiding behind his legs.

“Amelia wants to make one snowman, but Maddy wants her own too,” Arthur said, standing up. 

“Then why don’t they make it?” Francis asked before Arthur could finish. He glanced over to Amelia, who leaned on his leg, “Doudou, there’s enough snow for more than one.”

“I told her that,” Arthur replied, pulling his eyebrows inwards. “But she said that Maddy would make it look bad.”

“Did you say that to your sister, cherie?” Francis asked in a smooth tone, and she shook her head.

“No.”

“Don’t lie to your Papa,” Arthur snapped quickly, raising an eyebrow, and she hesitated.

“I did,” she continued, her voice falling flat.

“Why would you say that?” Francis continued, and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Because,” she said. “Dad won’t help me with my snowman if Maddy makes one too.”

“But you know he would’ve helped both of you,” Francis said. “Or you could’ve asked me instead of saying that to your sister.”

“...”

“You do know that you hurt your sister’s feeling, don’t you?” Francis asked, raising his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly to make eye contact with her.

“Yeah,” Amelia pouted slightly, swing her arms around again. Madeline had been standing by, behind Arthur, watching the interaction with big eyes. Amelia glanced over at her, before stepping out beside Francis. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Francis hummed, patting her head, coaxing her to continue.

“I’m sorry I said you’d make a bad snowman,” Amelia continued. “You’re not bad at it. Or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Madeline whispered, still clinging onto Arthur’s leg, glancing at her, planting her feet into the ground.

“You wanna keep making one?” Amelia asked, extending an arm towards her, as if waiting for her to hold her hand to follow her.

“I want to make my own,” Madeline mumbled, glancing up to Arthur before looking at Amelia.

Amelia looked disheartened at how unwilling Madeline was to move, and said, “Aw jeez. How am I supposed to make a snowman then?”

“I can help you,” Arthur said, his anger tapering off, but Amelia shook her head.

“I don’t want Dad’s help,” she said with a huff, and looked up to Francis. “Papa, can you help me?”

“Of course,” Francis obliged, softly smiling. “Why don’t you go ahead and start the middle part, hm?”

“Okay,” Amelia replied, her excitement returning, as she waddled away. Madeline did the same, towards the opposite side, and started to gather snow towards her.

“Why do you look like that, cher?” Francis asked, as Arthur continued to have his arms crossed, a frown on his face.

“I can’t believe you let her off so easily,” Arthur replied. “If I were you, I would have sent her back inside to think about her behaviour.”

“She’s just a child,” Francis hummed, making Arthur roll his eyes. Francis was too soft for his own good. “And she clearly feels bad and apologized.”

“That’s exactly why you should start being a bit harsher now,” Arthur tutted, still annoyed. “So she knows better.”

“I’m sure she won’t do it again,” Francis smiled, and then paused for a bit, as if thinking for a bit. He then said with a cheeky grin, “Or are you annoyed that Amelia wanted me to help her.”

A way to distract Arthur from what had just happened, he knew for sure, and although he would usually hold onto trying to tell Francis why he shouldn’t be so easy on her, he decided to let it slide for now. 

“And why would I be annoyed about that?” Arthur scoffed, humouring him to continue.

“Because I’m the better snowman maker, obviously,” Francis said, titling his head. 

“Yeah, right,” Arthur rolled his eyes, ignoring his husband’s remark, and started to walk past Francis towards Madeline.

“It’s okay, mon amour,” Francis hummed, making Arthur stop in his tracks. “We both know you don’t have a knack for decorating. If anything, I’ll help Madeline decorate hers before she asks.”

A small comment, one not worth the time to think about too much, but at that moment, a small flame grew inside of Arthur that had been extinguished for quite some time. He may or may not remember having this exact same issue with Francis before- when they were just boys. 

“And you think you can make a better snowman than me?” Arthur narrowed his eyes, a haughty smile on his face, facing towards Francis, who already had a small ball of snow in his hand. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I think I can make it less basic than how you would make it,” Francis scoffed, folding his arms and sticking his face upwards as if to give him a much grandeur air. “There’s a reason why Amelia asked me to help her. Cause she knows Papa would make a better one than Dad.”

“Never call yourself Papa to me,” Arthur frowned, but Francis continued, ignoring his comment.

“Just to let you know, there’s only a few wine corks left in the drawers. If you want one, you’ll have to hurry.”

“Keep your wine corks,” Arthur replied, turning away. “Madeline and I will be using something much more creative for eyes.”

“Like what, des petits roches?” Francis mocked as he started to add more snow to his tiny snowball. “How creative!”

His mocking tone is really want annoyed Arthur now. He knows it’s all in good fun, truly, but there’s something about the way Francis manages to make his voice sound so much more annoying than it already is that annoys Arthur to no end.

“I’ll throw des petits roches to your face!” Arthur grumbled, then leaning down to Madeline’s level in order to help her with the snowball they were making. “Don’t worry, Maddy - Dad’s gonna make the best snowman in the world. Better than Papa’s!”

“I don’t really care; as long as Dad’s helping me,” Madeline said, a bit confused with her Dad’s words, holding the snow in her gloved hands and patting it to make a sphere. Arthur’s heart fluttered slight, happy with her words, and started to follow her suite.

Meanwhile, Francis and Amelia also started with the bottom part of the snowman, brewing up a strategy- or moreso, Francis was guiding Amelia over her choices for what to decorate the snowman with.

“So, are we gonna use the corks for the eyes and buttons?” Amelia asked as she pushed the snowball, which gradually started to get bigger and bigger, as Francis stood by to help her when she needed it.

“Non, we should use something else for the eyes...How about we use something darker like coffee beans or those dried prunes from Grandma Victoria?”

“Yeah, let’s get rid of those prunes!” Amelia affirmed, smiling as she continued to push the ball. “Can we also put a scarf and a hat?”

Francis pondered about this. Who’s scarf and hat could they use for the snowman? He glanced over to Arthur, who did not have the scarf he would usually wear on him. He smirked, and he turned to Amelia, saying, “Yes, we can. Let Papa get the things for you, okay doudou?” 

Eventually, it became big enough to put on top of the bottom ball they had, and Francis helped her carry it across the lawn, putting it in place and went ahead to make the final ball. Meanwhile, Arthur helped Madeline, being on their second piece as well, before working on the head of the ball. 

They both had their materials ready, both of them hiding it from the others sight. Arthur figured that he would go much more classic with their snowman. A scarf would be great for sure, but for the hat, he decided to grab a beret from Francis - it’s not like he wears it anymore, he shouldn’t have an issue with it. After sticking in the broken branches they had in the backyard into the side of the snowman for arms, Arthur went onto the face. The last carrot they had was stuck on for the nose, along with the coal that kept in the back porch for the outdoor furnace, often unused until now, for the eyes and smile. Madeline wanted colourful buttons, and so Arthur had to raid his button drawer, finding a variety of bigger buttons for Madeline to choose from.

I’ll show him, Arthur thought as he held Madeline in his arms as she placed the decoration, delicately placing each coal on a curve for a smile. 

“Does it look okay?” Madeline asked softly, glancing over to Arthur for approval. Arthur took a step back, still holding her in his arms.

The snowman had the beret and an old navy blue scarf Arthur had recently replaced, and old gloves on his branches. Madeline had chosen bright pink buttons for the snowman’s buttons, an entire string of them from his neck to the bottom - an odd choice by Arthur, but Madeline liked it, so he didn’t say anything.

“I think it looks amazing,” Arthur replied with a smile, and Madeline’s face lit up, a shy smile on her face as she glanced away. From the side, he could see Francis standing in front of the snowman, blocking it from their views, while Amelia was on her toes, trying to reach up.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” Arthur asked, a mocking tone towards Francis, as he let Madeline slide down to the ground, and they both walked over towards them.

“Almost...done…” Amelia replied, a slight straining in her voice, before she landed back on the heel of her boot. “Done!”

“Good job,” Francis replied, as he held up his hand, and Amelia immediately gave a high-five, jumping up while doing it. 

She then leaned over, and ran towards Madeline, looking at the snowman, “Yours looks great, Maddy!”

“You mean it?” Madeline asked, and after Amelia nodded enthusiastically, Madeline says, “I think yours looks great too.”

They were back to being close sisters again, so it seems, and as they started to walk a bit past Madeline’s snowman, Amelia exploding with every thought and idea she had kept in for Madeline’s ears alone, Arthur looked at Francis’ snowman. He did find the snowman incredibly cute, with Amelia’s crooked craftsmanship showing, giving the snowman a sort of charm- though he wouldn’t give Francis the luxury of hearing that.

Upon further inspection, however, he realised that he recognized a few of the items on the snowman. Unbeknownst, Francis had taken a long look at the snowman he made, a similar realisation dawned on him, and they both were armed with criticism.

“What is this?” Arthur scoffed, as he leaned over to the snowman’s button. They were a dark colour, and it seemed as if it were clumped up fruits balled up together. His eyes widened, and he turned to Francis, exclaiming “Did you seriously used the prunes Mom sent us?!”

“Oh c’mon Arthur,” Francis rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you even like to eat them.”

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean you use it for decoration!” Arthur said. “And this attract raccoons to our lawn - they’re already trying to get into the compost bin as in. I don’t need more roaming around.”

“Says the guy who used our last carrot for a snowman,” Francis replied. “And who said you could use this beret?” 

“You don’t even use it anyway,” Arthur replied, squinting his eyes, accusatory. He went back to the snowman, and noted the scarf it had around its neck. It was a new scarf, a white and red one that looked very similar to the one Arthur had…

Now Arthur was annoyed. Forget the beret, this was a scarf he bought brand new to use! He said to Francis, “But you used my scarf that I do use!”

“That’s not my fault that you didn’t wear it,” Francis said, a petty reason, truly, but he shook his hand to wave Arthur off. “The fact is you used a beret you know that I never wear because it is expensive!”

“How expensive can a beret truly be?”

As they continued to bicker, they didn't noticed Amelia and Madeline sitting on the steps of the porch, absorbed in their conversation while listening to them bicker, the snowman debacle now behind them.

“You wanna watch that Pokémon marathon?” Amelia asked Madeline when she noted her parents bickering, glancing over to her sister.

“Sure,” Madeline said with a shrug, and the two waddled towards the door, opening it silently while stomping off the snow from their boots, before stepping inside to the warmth of their home.

“Just admit that our snowman is better than yours,” Francis replied haughtily, raising his head higher as he folded his arms. 

“Like hell I would!” Arthur mumbled, keeping his voice low so the kids couldn’t hear him use such language, despite the fact that they had already left. “I think you ruined Amelia’s fine work.”

“At least it had a bit of creativity behind it - unlike these basic items you used, save for the beret,” Francis replied, a hand picking up a coal piece that had fell from the snowman. “Coal? Seriously? You want to damage the grass? It’s going to seep through the snow and enter the ground.”

“Now you’re just being nitpicky,” Arthur replied, arms crossed, knowing their arguing would get nowhere in particular, bickering for the sake of it. Arthur won’t deny, though, he does enjoy it- it gets a sort of attention and fixation from Francis that he quite enjoys. Especially since there were constant distractions around them, their kids being the main cause of it all.

Arthur glanced around, finally realising that his kids were nowhere to be found, before looking at the trail of snow that led to the front door. He should do the same- the cold had gotten to him, and he could tell there was a thin layer of ice along his face at this point.

“This is stupid,” Arthur mumbled, turning around to walk away, ready to head towards the stairs to go inside, when he placed his foot in a more dented part of the lawn, cause his leg to twist, before he finally collapsed on the ground.

Immediately, he could hear Francis's laughter fill the air, and snow had found its way into his boots, his feet growing numb.

“Don’t laugh!” Arthur exclaimed, sitting up quickly, almost losing his balance once aga ik n as he got up to his feet, Francis continuing to laugh at Arthur's demise.

Without a second thought, he picked a handful of snow, and hurled it over at the Frenchman, narrowly missing him due to Francis moving aside quickly.

“Do you really want to do this now?” Francis asked, amusement on his face, as Arthur leaned down to pick up another handful of snow. “In front of the neighbourhood?”

“Nobody's out at this time,” Arthur said, a grin on his face, before hurling the snowball at Francis, landing right on his shoulder.

Francis was, needless to say shocked, but he quickly amassed snow in his hands, throwing whatever he had towards Arthur. Specks of snow managed to land on his neck and into his coat, making him freeze at the cold snow touching his skin.

Before they knew it, an all out snowball fight had occurred between the two, both finding newfound energy in their bodies to move from side to side, avoiding and landing a snowball on one another. 

There came a point, however, when Francis was walking backwards and Arthur whined up his arm with a snowball, ready to shoot it out at him. Neither of them realised the Francis was standing right up to Amelia's snowman- because Arthur did not hesitant to whip the snowball towards Francis, who quickly moved aside, but landed it a way where he fell over…

...right onto Amelia's snowman. 

It all happened slowly- the way the body caved in, the head smashing into a million piece. It was a tragic death truly, but nothing will be more tragic than Amelia realising that someone had destroyed her snowman that she worked hard on.

“For fuck's sake,” Arthur said, laughing at Francis’ position, and the fact he destroyed the snowman that he created. “How are you going to tell Amelia about this?”

“I'll tell her you did it,” Francis replied, obvious worry on his face, as he tried to gather all the pieces together. When Arthur continued to laugh, Francis asked, “Aren't you going to help me?”

“Why would I?” Arthur asked mockingly, impishly watching. “You said you’re the best snowman maker- why would me, a mere snowman peasant, for help?”

“Really Arthur?” Francis scoffed, managing to gather snow to fix the bottom half. “If you help me, we can get this done in half the time!”

“Maybe you should admit I'm better at making snowmans than you,” Arthur hummed, standing still. “Then I might consider.”

“You're not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“What are you, 5?” Francis asked, and Arthur started to walk away.

“Oh well- I'll let Amelia know what you did.”

“Unbelievable,” Francis grumbled, raising his arms up in disbelief. Arthur paused his walk, eyebrow raized expectantly, and there was a slight moment between them. Francis struggled to say this, but he said, “You're the best snowman maker.”

“And?”

“And...you're better than me.”

“Music to my ears,” Arthur replied as he backtracked and came closer to Francis. “You know, that wasn't that hard to say.”

“If only you knew,” Francis sighed, gesturing to fragmented snow pieced. “Now can you help me put this together?”

“It's been a while since we made one together,” Arthur said, as Francis held a few pieces together, and Arthur grabbed a handful of snow to put over the cracks, a natural adhesive. 

“A snowman?” Francis asked, and Arthur nodded along. “We made them just last year.”

“No, you and Amelia and Madeline did,” Arthur replied. “I was at work every time you all did it.”

“So you did feel bad when Amelia picked me over you,” Francis replied, a smug smile on his face.

“Not really,” Arthur sighed. “She was obviously mad at me for scolding her. She would've chose me.”

Francis hummed. “Well, for what it's worth, your snowman was okay. Madeline's parts were better, though.”

“Of course, as if you could tell who did what.”

“I know how my daughter's create,” Francis laughed. “You're always precise with everything. They have a carefree way of styling everything.”

“You're precise as well,” Arthur said. “Always so precise and picky. I remember when we were younger, you actually told me what I should and shouldn't use to make a snowman.”

“I did?” Francis asked, patting down the snow firmly on the bottom part, and moved onto the head. “I don't remember ever telling you that.”

“That's because you're becoming old,” Arthur mocked, as he helped pick up more snow.

“As if you're not as well,” Francis said. “But at least I look good for my age, non?”

Arthur has peaked his witty, sarcastic humour for the time being. He leaned in slightly, lifting his head coyly, and said in a lighter voice, “Maybe just too good.”

Francis grinned, tapping the tip of Arthur's nose with the back if his hand, before saying in a sleek tone, “It's too early to do anything, mon amour.”

“We used to do everything anytime,” Arthur said, taking the scarf from the ground, placing the hat on top of the snowman. 

“When we didn't have anyone else in the house,” Francis hummed, patting the head down and fixing the face, the eyes having come undone. The snowman looked slightly off from how it previously looked, but it looked as good as it did before- save for the missing scarf, of course. “There. She won't notice the difference, right?”

“I doubt it,” Arthur said. “Speaking off- we better go check on them before they cause some sort of disaster.”

They made their way into the house, kicking off their boots and shedding their jackets, shaking off any excess snow. The hats and colourful scarves the twins wore hung on the bottom pegs of a stand nearby, drying away from the closet. As they walked down to the hallway with the closet, they immediately noticed the red and blue snow jackets and pairs of matching coloured snow pants laying on the floor.

“Amelia! Madeline!” Arthur called as he picked up their snow jackets and pants, knowing he left the hangers lower on the ground for them to pick up and use easily. “Why are your snow jackets on the floor?”

“Arthur, they're just kids,” Francis hummed, and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“They still need to be responsible,” Arthur said, as Francis started to hang up their jackets, the silent answer worrying Arthur as he stepped further down the hall. 

“Amelia?” he repeated. “Madeline?”

He could hear the drone of the TV in the living room, and immediately peered his head through. He found the twins, underneath a plaid, flannel blanket, snoozing on top of each other as an episode of Pokemon ran on the TV. A jar of cookie was on the floor and there were crumbs all of the blanket, a half eaten cookie in Madeline's hand, and bits of chocolate in the corners of their mouths, both slightly open. 

He couldn't help it. It was just too cute. 

Arthur quickly took out his phone that he had stuck in his back pocket, and took a picture of the two, before going back to Francis, who had put all of their things away in the closet.

“They're asleep,” Arthur said in a hushed voice. “Should we bring them up to their room?”

“Is it too early for them to nap?” Francis asked, and Arthur shook his head. 

“They did play for quite a bit outside,” Arthur said. “Better that they do now than later. It might mess their sleep.”

After gently carrying them up the stairs to their room, and placing them in bed side by side, they returned to the living, changing into a much more dryer and comfortable clothing. A movie would be the best way to spend the afternoon- with Francis leaving at night, they would have to do something before he could catch a quick wink. 

“I'm not watching Home Alone,” Arthur said from the kitchen as Francis looked through the selection of movies of their streaming account. “Or anything Christmas-y for that matter.”

“Get into the spirit, mon lapin,” Francis replied. He then leaned over, trying to get a view of the kitchen. “You sure you'll be alright in there?”

“I'm just making cocoa,” Arthur said. “There's no way I could mess this up.”

“You burned pasta one.”

“Because I didn't know you had to add water to pasta! Who could blame me!” Arthur grumbled, as he poured the cocoa into two cups.

“You want to watch a romantic movie? To get in the mood?” Francis asked as he shuffled over, Arthur setting the cups on the table nearby a bowl of popcorn that had already been set, and taking a set, leaning onto Francis who opened his arm.

“It's going to be a shitty Christmas romance, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, taking a bit popcorn in his hand, eating it immediately.

“Only the best kind,” Francis chuckled, selecting the movie, and cozying himself close to Arthur.

“Is this really what you want to do right now?” Arthur asked after a good 5 minutes into the movie. “Be vanilla and watch a movie?”

“Maybe,” Francis said snarkily, glancing over to Arthur. He lifted a bit of his short blond hair with the tip of his finger, playing with it a bit. “Why, did you have something else in mind?”

Arthur looked over at Francis, trying to hide the unbashful smile that played on his lips, leaning closer. “Maybe.”

Francis stopped playing with his hair, using the same hand to go to the back of his neck, stroking the side gently with his thumb. He then said, “You're such tease.”

“Oh, I'm the tease, hm,” Arthur replied, moving slightly away from him. “Fine, then, I guess we don't need to do anything.”

Francis shifted closer immediately, pulling Arthur into a kiss, before letting his push his back into the sofa arm, soft kisses turning passionate.

Just a typical Saturday in the Kirkland-Bonnefoy residence.


End file.
